


This Field is Too Small for All of Us

by A_G_Sawyer



Series: Secrets Won't Always Stay Secret [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Almost Kissing, Comfort, Drunk Sera, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Frustrated Mirriam, Romance, Unresolved Sexual Tension, interruptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 11:09:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3408359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_G_Sawyer/pseuds/A_G_Sawyer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mirriam can't sleep and spends some time with Bull, Varric and Sera who all try to convince her to take a tumble with Sera. She refuses and spends some time in the field in front of Haven with Cullen, trying to deal with her situation. Cullen decides now is a good time to make a move, but how far will he actually get?</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Field is Too Small for All of Us

Mirriam lay on her back staring up at the ceiling of her cabin, unable to sleep. She’d had some time to get to know her two new companions. The sprightly little elf was a right ball of mischief, but she found she actually quite enjoyed Sera’s vulgar company. But the enchanter, Maker. That woman was an entirely different story. All the rules, all the propriety, all the… _manners_. Who ever bothered to find out what the little fork was for? And why did you need two anyway?

Mirriam thought it was all entirely too ridiculous. Vivienne was so obsessed with things being just so while Sera was a little obsessed with everything being just slightly off. Total chaos, of course, but much more to Mirriam’s satisfaction. She thrived on chaos.

Perhaps that’s why she’d been chosen as the Herald of Andraste. Stupid title, really. Mirriam rolled her eyes and snorted at the ceiling. The Herald of some god’s dead wife, for all the good it would do. But people seemed to listen to her, so she’d put it to use.

She sat up and left her cabin, hoping that a swift drink might lull her into a sleepy state. When she arrived at the tavern, she found her new favorite elf sitting with Bull and Varric, raucous laughter and profanities abounding. Grinning, she made her way to their table.

“Boss! I thought you were going to bed?” Bull said, grinning. Mirriam shrugged and plopped down on a chair that Varric pushed toward her.

“Couldn’t sleep. You know, weight of the world and all that,” she said.

“Hear that, Boss. Wouldn’t wanna be in your shoes,” Bull said. Mirriam snorted.

“Thanks for the help, Bull, you’re always so comforting,” Mirriam said, sarcasm dripping heavily from each word. Bull and Varric laughed before Sera chimed in.

“Well, if it’s comfort you’re lookin’ for, I’ll be ‘appy to ‘elp, yeah? Always liked a girl with guts, yeah? And the curves aren’nothin’ t’scoff at either,” she said, snickering, as she sized Mirriam up. Mirriam rolled her eyes and gave Sera a dull glance. She knew this little game Sera liked to play, and Sera knew she wasn’t interested, but Mirriam wouldn’t have been able to stop her even if she wanted. Sera said what she wanted to, no matter what anyone else thought.

“I’m jus’ sayin’.” Sera winked. “If you ever need somethin’ to cuddle with, you jus’ let me know,” she said. Bull and Varric laughed and clinked their tankards before gulping down some more ale. Mirriam walked to the bar, ordered her own ale and walked back to the table.

“I wrote a story once about two ladies who’d gotten in a bit of a tussle over a man. They’d both wanted him, of course, and he was flippantly refusing to make a choice between the two, terrified of the reaction of the woman not chosen,” Varric started. “The ladies were both, well… you know, all curves and flowing hair, no offense Sera” -Sera snorted and waved her hand, muttering about hair getting in the way- “anyway, they were beautiful, right? But the poor sod couldn’t decide who he wanted, so the girls fought, as girls do from time to time. Poor man came to break it up only to find them wrapped up in the dirt, makin’ out like he’d never seen anyone before.” Bull laughed and slammed his hand on the table.

“That’s what I’m talking about! We could all use more of that, I think. How about it, Boss?” He laughed and cocked a brow. Mirriam rolled her eyes and took a drink.

“I’ll need a lot more of this before I’ll kiss a woman, Bull, much less take a tumble in the dirt with one.”

“Barmaid, another round!” Bull said and Mirriam laughed.

“I don’t think so, Bull, sorry to disappoint,” she said.

“Bummer, I’d enjoy a proper tumble with you, I think,” Sera joked. Mirriam punched her arm, laughing. The rest of the table joined in the laughter, as the conversation drifted to an easy murmur.

Mirriam bid everyone goodnight and left the tavern, but found she still wasn’t ready for sleep yet. She wandered through the city, out the gates and settled in the grass, looking up toward the stars.

The sky was clear tonight, minus the breach, of course. She knew it was an unnatural mark against the sky, but it was sort of beautiful. She couldn’t help but admire the way the green waves flurried around. The entire sky was cast in a dim green glow, making everything look almost alien.

She lay on her back, her knees bent up, her arms behind her head and stared at the stars, searching for constellations. She’d studied them lately, learning their names and shapes and histories. The astrariums across Thedas had piqued her interest, so she studied.

As she lay watching, she heard footsteps approaching and the air shifted as a heavy weight settled in beside her.

“Clearest night we’ve had in weeks, I think. When I was little, in the Chantry, I used to search the skies for the constellations. When I couldn’t find them, I made up my own. They were usually dragons, knights and various implements of mighty destruction, of course,” Cullen said, laughing softly. “I wanted to be a Templar, but I also wanted battles and glory!” He set his voice in a proud and determined tone, clearly mimicking the tone of his childhood dreams.

“Battles and glory aren’t quite what they’re cracked up to be are they?” Mirriam asked.

“No, I’m afraid not. Much more work than I planned as a child,” he said, laying down beside her. “You’ve been distant lately, are you alright? I mean, besides the giant chasm in the sky threatening to suck the life out of our world,” he said. Mirriam sighed and rubbed at her eyes, before placing her hands back under her head.

“I’m alright. I’m tired. This is all so… exhausting. I feel like there’s never a break. Tomorrow, we head off to meet with the Templars, though Maker knows I’m not comfortable with that. I’m less comfortable with the mages, though. Either way it’s a bad situation, really. I’m just… tired. I need a few days to wrap my head around all this, but I know I can’t have it,” Mirriam said, shifting uncomfortably. “But it’s my job, it’s what I’m here for, and I suppose I must be doing well enough, as people keep following me.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in. The Breach is not anything anyone expected. It’s leaking chaos all over Thedas. Everyone fighting everyone else, no one is united. There’s so much insecurity and fear,” Cullen said

“I just hate being the ‘chosen one’,” she said, almost sarcastically. “I barely even qualify as Andrastian. How can all these lives, all these futures, families, children… how can they all look to me for guidance? How can I save them all? I watched helplessly as hundreds were buried right in front of me and somehow I managed to escape. And now here I sit, marked for death by a force I’ve no idea how to counter while everyone around me pleads for direction. I am the least of our group, hardly worth mentioning, and yet I am called to lead. How does this make any sense?” Mirriam said, her voice shaking with disbelief. She enjoyed chaos, but this was far more than she bargained for. Chaos at the cost of hundreds of lives was not what she’d ever hoped for.

“It doesn’t. It’s not supposed to, that’s now how faith works. But Herald, know this: you are not so undeserving of the title. You may not have the diplomacy skills of our Josephine or the subtlety of our spymaster,” he paused for a moment and chuckled, “Or the brilliant military strategies of your fearless Commander.” Mirriam glanced at him and he was smirking, again. Always with the smirking.

Cullen turned to look at her and furrowed his brow, all joking set aside. “I’m sorry this is happening and I’m sorry you have to be the one to deal with it. If I could change it, you know, I would. I’d gladly take over, but it’s you who’s been called. You’re the one who can… who will lead us to victory.” Mirriam looked at him, his eyes were so soft and gentle, but his lips turned up in a tender smile. He looked so beautiful in the dim light and it made her blush to see him looking at her that way.

Cullen leaned up on his elbow, still facing her, swirling pools of liquid amber staring down at her. Mirriam looked up into his eyes,

“I have faith in you, Herald. You, not Andraste, not even the Maker himself. I have faith in you” -he tapped her nose with his finger- “You will not fail, I’m certain of this. No one as…,” he paused, looking into her eyes, lifting his hand to her cheek, his thumb running along her cheekbone, “incredible, as courageous and as selfless as you... can lose. You’re unbelievable,” he said, and Mirriam saw the resolve in his eyes. A warmth spread through her belly as he leaned in closer, their eyes never parting. Cullen offered one of his wicked grins as he leaned down, her name a gentle whisper on his lips.

She could feel his breath on her skin, could smell the aroma of firewood and rich leather rolling off him. Mirriam’s heart beat in time with his, pounding quietly in her ears. The warmth of his body as he grew ever closer combined with her own brought a quiet groan from her body. Cullen chuckled, his breath sending chills through her body just hairs away from her lips.

A loud crack and a symphony of wild laughter rang out as a group of people burst through the gate. Cullen jumped back and Mirriam closed her eyes, silently swearing, and trying to calm her nerves.

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen said, quietly, and spared a sorrowful glance at Mirriam before rising to tend to the intruders. Mirriam sat up and joined him.

Sera had somehow managed to get reduced to her skivvies, her arm around a drunken bar maid in a similar state of undress. Bull and Varric roared and laughed, chanting at them as the women tripped over one another, both exceptionally inebriated. Mirriam rubbed her eyes and shook her head.

“Come on, Commander, you don’t want to see this,” she said, heading back toward the gate. Cullen stood, arms folded, lips pursed watching the two women roll drunkenly over one another.

“I might, actually,” he said, and grinned at Mirriam, who looked suddenly hurt. Cullen chuckled and stepped closer to her, sliding one hand around her waist and tilting her chin up toward his. “But only if you were joining them,” he said, his wicked eyes glinting in the starlight.

A long moment pulled between them as they stared at each other, Mirriam’s heart racing. She felt his long, muscular body pressed against hers, and it sent a shiver up her spine. She felt herself twitch under his touch and a deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating against her own. Mirriam was fairly certain she’d fall over if he hadn’t been holding her up.

Cullen’s lip twisted into that confident, sexy grin he used so rarely and leaned in. Mirriam twisted her arms around his neck, her fingers curling into the fur of his cloak. She closed her eyes as his hands gripped her back. Her breath hitched when his lips barely brushed against hers.

“Look out!” Someone yelled as Bull laughed, tripping over something and bowled straight into Cullen, who was knocked from his feet, almost dragging Mirriam with him. She’d managed to maintain her balance, by some miracle, and huffed in frustration.

“Oh, Andraste’s armpits, can’t you people find your own field?” Mirriam said, throwing her arms in the air in defeat. Everyone laughed, even Cullen laughed at that. Mirriam just shook her head and glared at him. He grinned back at her and shrugged.

“Fear not, my dear lady Herald. I don’t give up easily,” he said, winking at her. Mirriam could have just been struck by lightning for the jolt of electricity that wink sent through her body. She blushed and ran back through the gates, seeking refuge in her cabin, finally deciding that sleep was not going to come easily that night.


End file.
